


From Left Field

by belial



Series: Argentisms [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Flirting, Frottage, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-16
Updated: 2013-01-16
Packaged: 2017-11-25 18:21:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/641687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belial/pseuds/belial
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lacrosse matches are where the town comes to bond.  And show… appreciation.  And, apparently, out yourself to your daughter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	From Left Field

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the fandom, characters, etc. I make no profit from this. 
> 
> Warnings: Chris Argent is married to Victoria still in this universe. Therefore, this fic deals with the prospect of infidelity. (But really, how could anyone turn down a sociopath as adorable as Peter?) 
> 
> Notes: Chris Argent’s POV. I do not remotely try to follow canon with this. I also made Peter three years younger.  
> _______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

It doesn’t matter how loudly Finstock yells for Stiles, Stiles is running to the side of the bleachers with the biggest smile ever. And that’s how I learn the Hales have arrived. I hear John groaning from his seat next to me, “My kid…”

“I suppose it could be worse,” I say, and gesture to where Scott stands waving at Allison. She grins at him and they blow kisses to each other. 

“I’m not sure how,” he disagrees, and grimaces as Stiles launches himself into Derek for a hug. “My kid, the world’s most obvious human being. He might as well hold up a sign that says, ‘Property of Derek Hale’. Your lovebird headaches are at least the same age. I’m less tempted to shoot and or arrest them.”

“Actually, Mr. S., I’m older than Scott,” Allison pipes in. “So eventually, if you were to arrest Derek, you’d have to arrest me, too.”

“Allison!” John chides, but as I look to the field I can see Scott laughing.

“It’s a losing battle,” I say. Then, as much to my surprise as theirs, I stand up and yell, “Derek! Peter! Up here!”

The two of them snap their attention to me; Derek looks suspicious and Peter looks… well. Excited, if the huge grin on his face is anything to go by. I wave, gesture to the empty spaces on the bleachers below us. “Come sit with us,” I say.

Derek reels Stiles in for one last hug and gives him a shove to the bench. He and Peter slide easily between the bodies around us, find their way to the seats I’d pointed out. John asks, “How’d you two get roped into joining us for once?”

“Stiles.” “Peter.”

They glare at each other as they answer in unison. Peter says, “Stiles keeps asking you to see him play.”

To which Derek replies, “That still wouldn’t explain your presence here.”

“I’m being family oriented.”

“You came to flirt with Mr. Argent,” Lydia chimes in, and somehow we’re all embarrassed except her. Thank God Victoria isn’t here. She rolls her eyes and adds, “What? Why does no one acknowledge the big gay elephant in the room?”

“Should’ve killed her,” Peter mutters, and I reach out to tug his ear in reprimand. 

The brat grins at me.

“I’m sure there were a _thousand_ more appropriate things to say instead of that,” John says, ever the adult, and Lydia doesn’t even look fazed by the admonishment.

“Whatever. It’s kind of cute to see Peter acting like a love-struck human being instead of his usual sociopathic self.”

“Lydia,” Peter whines. “Enough!”

She gives him a beautiful smile. “Oh, sweetie. That’s not happening.”

I look between them and cannot stop the chuckles that escape. “It’s nice to know your powers of evil have finally met their match.”

He leans back so his body rests against my shins and tips his head up to glare at me. “You’re a horrible person,” he says. “If nothing else, I think you’re supposed to be supportive of me as a fellow adult.”

I don’t even think about it before I reach out to stroke my hand over the top of his head. “Poor Peter,” I tease. “Outnumbered by the teenagers.”

I’m in no way ready for the rumbling purr to reverberate through my legs. He sags backwards so fast that he collapses against me, nuzzling his head into my hand. I blink. “Peter?”

“Peter!” Derek snaps. “For God’s sake, you’re in public…”

“Oh, all right, fine,” Peter replies. He sounds out of breath. “I think you have to stop doing that.”

I can feel the grin stretch across my face as I lift my hand to his head again. “You mean… this?”

He makes another noise of pure pleasure and shuts his eyes. I laugh until I hear, “Dad!” 

Well, shit. I stroke him once more and remove my hand from Peter’s person. “Sorry, honey,” I say. “I couldn’t resist.”

She glances between Peter and me and her eyes go wide. “Oh my God!” she hisses. “That’s why!”

“That’s why what?”

She shakes her head at me. “I’ll tell you when we get to the car.” 

The game starts and we’ve no longer got time to discuss those things that hide in plain sight. As I find myself rooting for Scott and the rest of the team, I cannot help notice that Allison keeps glancing between me and the man practically curled in my lap. 

When the game ends, I have to physically shove at Peter to remove him. “I don’t wanna,” he half-whines, and I laugh at him. “Please?”

“Up you go, kid.”

He grumbles and reluctantly moves. “I was comfortable.”

“Yeah, well, my ass is numb from sitting so long.”

He opens his mouth and I slap a hand over it, glaring at him. “Whatever you’re thinking, don’t say it.”

He bites my palm with blunt teeth and chuckles when I jerk my hand back. “I wasn’t thinking anything.”

“Bullshit.”

A throat clears; Allison and Scott join us in brief conversation, and then we take our leave of the field and the crowd. While Allison and I walk back to my SUV, she’s silent. I wait until we’re in the confines of the car to ask, “So what’s on your mind?”

“When you and Mom were fighting about Peter…”

“You were listening?”

She nods. “I had to know what was going on,” she said. “What happened when Peter left? Did Mom realize that you two are… something else?”

I stomp on the brake so hard the car skids a little, and horns blow behind me from other drivers. Wincing, I accelerate. “Peter and I aren’t something else,” I say. “We’re slowly becoming friends.”

“Friends? Dad, I’m not blind. You and Peter aren’t friends.”

“Allison!”

She crosses her arms over her chest. “You look at Peter like I look at Scott,” she says, softly. “Dad, please? Tell me the truth for once, without me stumbling into it?”

That one hurts, and yet… and yet. “It was a long time ago. Way before I met your mother.”

“Does Mom know this story?”

I nod. “His name was Ian, and he was my best friend. I was your age; we were both hunters, had our whole lives ahead, and suddenly he got bitten. I was the one who had to put him down. But it wasn’t right away. It took time for him to deteriorate.”

She’s quiet while I relate the story to her. “I loved him like a brother, would’ve done anything for him. He was a good man who didn’t deserve what happened to him.”

“You’re leaving out a lot, right?” she asks.

“Some things you don’t need to know,” I say. “You’re too young and they aren’t for sharing anyway. Needless to say, Peter reminds me a lot of Ian in the good days. And I know a lot more now than I did then. I can’t fix what happened when I was young, but I can try not to judge Peter based on the mistakes Kate made.”

“Even though he broke the Code?”

“I’m not a saint,” I say. “The Code dictates any wolf that spills blood gets put down. But, if I were to be fair, wouldn’t it have been Kate who spilled blood first? The Hales were innocent of wrongdoing up until she made the first move.”

“Mom doesn’t agree.”

“No, she doesn’t,” I say, sighing. “Your mother doesn’t believe that I should take up Kate’s sins and atone for them.”

“So you’re really trying to work things out with Peter?”

“In some ways. I think he could be reminded of who he once was.”

“And the blatant flirting?”

“Lydia Martin is a terrible influence on you.”

She huffs, then flat-out asks me, “Dad, are you cheating on Mom?”

“No!” 

“Are you going to?” she asks, more timidly.

I don’t have an answer to that one. Or maybe my silence is answer enough, because she says, “Mom hates Scott simply because he’s a werewolf, too. You were the only one who gave him a chance, afterwards. I don’t understand why it’s Peter, but I understand wanting to give second chances.”

The conversation drifts after that; I eventually pull into our driveway and park in the garage. Allison and I bid each other good night and I walk into the yard, not ready to go inside and go to bed.

When I return to the end of the garage, I’m not surprised to see a slight shadow step away from the wall. I tilt my head. “Peter.”

“Chris.”

“Why are you here?”

He squirms. “I might’ve followed you home.”

“You wanted to hear my conversation with Allison,” I say, for I’m too old and too tired to play games with him. “You wanted to know whether I liked you as a friend or as something more.”

He nods. The squirming doesn’t stop; I wonder if he even realizes how obvious he’s being. “I’m not good at this,” he hedges. “Not at being human or picking up on signals. And then, after the fire, I stopped caring about anything.”

“And now?”

“We drank beer and watched hockey. You stood up for me with no reason to believe I was anything but a threat. You respond to my flirting and I thought… I thought you were just having fun with me, until you touched me tonight.”

Slowly, I step closer to him, not wanting him to feel pinned but wanting to pin him nonetheless. He backs up until he’s against the house wall and I bracket my arms around him. “Is this okay?” I ask.

He nods, dips his head. “Yeah. You realize that even though you’re not a wolf, you’re an Alpha human?”

I tip my head to the side. “Am I?”

“And you realize I’m a Beta wolf now?”

“Yes…”

He sucks in a deep breath, then says, “The stroking tonight, my wolf saw that as you touching with intent.”

I lean closer to him. “What does that mean to me, Peter?” I ask, even though I already know the answer.

He doesn’t speak. He whines, closes his eyes, and spreads his legs so I can nestle further between them. “Peter,” I say, emphasizing his name but not moving. “What does it mean?”

“Please, I. I want. I know you’re married, and I can’t have you, but I would take any part of you that I can get, just, please…?”

I lower my mouth to his throat and bite him, plastering myself to his front as I lick the skin of his neck. He whimpers and shakes against me and oh, God. Christ. Fuck. He’s perfect. The submissiveness of his actions strikes me to my core. 

His mouth’s hot and sweet when I finally taste it. And his dick is hard as stone against mine as we rub on each other like teenagers.

We neck lazily for a moment or two, my hands digging into his hips and my mouth wet from his kisses, until a crash and a bang sounds from inside the house. I yank my body back, panting, staring at his flushed face and kiss-swollen mouth. “Jesus,” I say. “Jesus Christ, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.”

“I wanted you to.”

We stare at each other until I say, “I’ve got to go in.”

He nods, reaches down and adjusts his (hard, hard) cock through his pants. “I understand.”

“We’re not done here,” I say, and point a finger at his chest. “You hear that? We’re not done, we’re going to talk about this and figure something out. I’m not letting you slip through my fingers, Peter. And I’m not going to let you run from this.”

“So you’re… hunting me?”

“Yes,” I say, and his eyes flash golden. “But Peter, don’t lie to yourself. This time, you _want_ to be caught.”

He grins suddenly, too many teeth and I should be uncomfortable except I’m grinning back. “Good night, kid.”

He leans in, presses a brief kiss to my lips, and darts across the lawn. I watch him shift into the wolf, hear the howl as he vanishes into the tree line.

Sighing, I head inside. I open the door between the garage and the kitchen and come face-to-face with Victoria. “Hi,” I say.

She’s glaring at me. “I just went outside to find you,” she says. “And knocked over the trash while backing away. You’re cleaning that tomorrow.”

I take a deep breath and nod. “You never had a problem taking lovers of your own,” I say, and she blanches. It’s not a nice smile I feel on my face when I add, “You thought I never knew?”

Her mouth opens and closes and it’s funny, suddenly. Separated with other hunters, the thrill of the chase, the adrenaline, and needing an outlet to blow off steam and sexual frustration after a kill… “I never judged you.”

“I wasn’t fucking what we were hunting!”

“Times change. And if it’s going to be an issue, you should say so soon.”

“Do what you want,” she says, and throws her hands into the air. “You always do, I know that’s where Allison gets it from. But don’t ever come to me smelling like your bitch, because I won’t ignore an insult thrown in my face that way.”

“He’s going to be around, Vic. He’s part of the Hale pack, and the Hale pack’s been to our home before.”

“Try to restrain yourselves, then! And don’t expect me to tolerate any of them!”

“Deal. Now,” I say, yawning. “I’m going to bed, and I’ll clean the spill in the morning. Are you coming with me or not?”

She’s still furious, but she puts her hand on my arm and we walk up the stairs together. “I should’ve married that plumber when I had the chance,” she snaps.

Yeah, she’s furious, but with that comment, I know she’ll find a way to handle it. Which is good, because I’m not letting Peter out of my sight.

I’ve got a wolf to hunt.


End file.
